SERVICEABLE FRENCH
SOME years ago a young American woman, Miss G——, met at a Paris pension a compatriot, a spinster. One evening the conversation turned upon the study of languages. Miss G——, though she had lived some time in Paris, expressed an indifference to acquiring French, and said, with an air of concluding the matter, that on the whole she thought a knowledge of French took away very much from the feeling of strangeness which one had in the country, to which Miss G—— warmly assented.
“But, Miss S——,” she said, “you certainly know some French; otherwise it would be very difficult for you to find your way about the city.”
“Oh, yes,” responded the older lady, “I know some French—quite enough for all practical purposes.”
“For instance,” pursued Miss G——, who herself spoke French very beautifully, “what do you do when you wish a cocher to drive faster?”
“Oh,” was the response, “that’s easy enough. I simply rise, poke him in the back with my parasol, and”—shaking her hands, palms forward, nervously—“I say, ‘Rapidilly, rapidilly!’ Oh, I know French enough for that.”